Facilis Descensus Averno
by Republic's Prodigy
Summary: When did this all begin? Several scenes from RE6 from different characters' point of view. Mainly Leon x Helena, mentions of Ada x Leon. /COMPLETE
1. Leon

**Chapter 1. Descent into Despair.**

_Answer me, who are you?  
In front of my eyes, there is Jane Doe.  
Do you kiss with your eyes wide open?  
Why is there you I don't know?_

'_Jane Doe', Takahashi Minami_

I'd never think my life could get any more insane. However, the events of the last 24 hours showed that it very damn well could. And it's not just that the tragedy I'd already witnessed unfolded in front of my eyes once again.

When did all this begin?

I remember the advice that I heard from one of our psychologists. Because of the nightmares our agents had to witness they sometimes were losing the sense of what is real and what is not. Whenever they felt like they could not keep going, like they were losing their mind, they just needed to focus on basic things about themselves they knew were true, like name and age.

_My name is Leon Scott Kennedy. I am 36 years old. One day ago there was a planned attack on Tall Oaks, aimed at taking down the President. The town is destroyed. The person behind this is National Security Advisor Derek Simmons. And he will pay for this._

No, it's not going to help now. I shake my head to clear my mind and look at the source of another problem, who is peacefully sleeping in a chair across me.

In a way I'm jealous of Helena right now. As soon as the plane took off she fell fast asleep. How long has she been worrying about her sister? How long she had no sleep because of that? Add the adrenaline of last several hours, and you pretty much understand why she's sleeping like a child now.

_Like a child. __She is, in a way, being 12 years younger. Damn, she's younger than Sherry, whom I knew like a child._

And this makes all the more uncomfortable.

When did I start warming up to her? Was it when she had to put a bullet through the infected girl's head? Or when Ada did almost the same to her infected sister? Or the moment of defenselessness when we jumped down into the sewers?

_Shut it, Kennedy, you're walking down a dangerous road. Stop before it's too late._

I remember first thoughts about her: a nuisance, a liar, or someone who's obviously not telling everything she knows. It took going through hell to see the good in Helena, her loyalty and determination, as well as her dark side – vengefulness.

I try to switch my mind to Ada. For some reason, Ada and Helena cannot coexist peacefully in my head, and whenever I concentrate on one of them, she just forces to other out of my mind. And Ada has always been somewhat of a constant in my life, while Helena is – _I both hope for it and dread it_ – passing.

Ada, Ada, Ada. What is her motivation? What was she doing down under the cathedral? How she knew that that ring would open the door? As time passes, the number of 'what's, 'how's and 'why's is only increasing.

It's strange but at this very moment I feel like know Helena better than Ada. The string of thought starts unfolding further.

_I survived the Tall Oaks. I am the prime suspect for killing the President. To be more precise, Helena and I top the list of suspects. Helena is my…_

And here the thoughts stop. Helena is my what? An accidental acquaintance? A partner? A friend?

As if reading my thoughts, Helena sighs deeply in her sleep and hugs herself.

_Quit staring, before she woke up._

She does. As soon as I notice it, I immediately pretend that the view outside the illuminator is very interesting. This could be very convincing if not for the complete darkness that IS the view outside. No city lights, nothing but darkness.

'Leon?'

I turn to her. Despite the sleep, there are shadows under her eyes.

'Sleep while there's still time', I smile at her.

She smiles back and stretches her arms and legs before standing up. 'I'll be back in a couple of minutes. I swear if I continue sitting my legs are going to fall off'.

'Sure'.

_Don't stare. Nothing is going to happen to her in a plane full of people._ Still, it's strange how vulnerable and defenseless I start to feel. I guess I really got used to her, always ready to shoot at any threat.

_PLANE, Kennedy. It's not like it's full of zombies._

I take deep breaths and look out of window once again. When I hear steps I look up for a second before turning back to the window again.

'We just entered Chinese airspace'.

'Good'.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Helena sitting down and holding her head. I can only imagine the burden she's carrying, technically being the one responsible for everything that's happened. And there's a lot I want to tell her but I only manage asking 'How're you holding up?'

She rubs her head and does not answer. I assume that she needs time to herself, when I'm confronted with a sudden and direct question that catches me completely by surprise.

'Why didn't you turn me in?' Confusion must be clearly written over my face, because she adds, 'You could have cleared your name'.

'Maybe', I say, pretending to consider this alternative, 'But it wouldn't have stopped Simmons'. She shakes her head in disbelief, and before I can either realize what I'm saying or, better, stop the words coming out of my mouth, I hear myself saying, 'Besides, you're starting to grow on me a little bit'.

Next second I expect her to slap me, but Helena only grins, as if saying, 'Very funny, you got me'. On the one hand, I feel hurt. One the other hand, I'm glad that I'm not _physically _hurt.

Suddenly the plane starts shaking and lights flicker. We exchange glances and head to the pilot's cabin, none of us uttering a single word. That much for a peaceful flight.

_At least she did not hit you, Kennedy._

* * *

I have to say that Chapter 2 went a little bit out of control and subtotal for two chapters is already 7 pages! I have 4 chapters planned as a must, but if inspiration is not going to die out, there will be 5 of them :) Meanwhile...

**Chapter 2 teasers.**

When the third zombie joins its comrades in a free fall, I hear a quick succession of five shots beside me and a quiet 'Come on, Ada'.

* * *

I take aim and pull the trigger…

I hear a click and nothing happens.

* * *

One, two, three.

_'You're starting to grow on me a little bit'._


	2. Helena

Thank you everyone for lovely reviews! I've had kind of tough week and reading reviews really was making my days brighter and I felt the strength to go on just so I could continue writing. I wish I could just hug each and every of you :D I hope to keep the quality at the high level and not to disappoint you. Also, for the next chapter (the third one) the song in the beginning is in Russian so I also hope to provide a translation and a link to the song.

* * *

**Chapter 2. Of Flames and Glass**

'_Cause your soul is on fire,_

_A shot in the dark…_

_What did they aim for_

_When they missed your heart?_

'_Shot in the dark', Within Temptation_

I never thought that my bond with my sister is going to result in apocalypse. I never thought that _I_ would be the cause of all this.

But let's face the facts, it is my entire fault. And I am ready to take responsibility, but only after I kill Simmons. It's just as simple. The problem is, nothing seems to have effect on him. We shot him, threw him off the train, and then the train ran him over and threw him into the river, where he supposedly drowned. We burned him, with Ada covering us with a bullet rain. I don't even mention such thing as just beating the crap out of him. You'd think a virus weakens an organism, but Simmons' immune system just strengthened. Or so I think.

We reached an elevator and I exhale, only now realizing I've been holding my breath. I lean on the back wall of the elevator and try to steady my breath. Come on. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe in, breathe out.

Leon is leaning his head on the opposite wall made of glass, and in reflection I can see him nervously biting his lips. Of course. Ada Wong has just left him behind. Again, I should say. I wonder if he knows that lament is written all over his face.

'She's more than just a friend, isn't she? You have feelings for her'.

He flinches as if in pain and meets my eyes, while I try my best to give him a knowing smile.

The next second something hits the elevator and all I can see is flames.

It all happens within fractions of a second. We both look at the elevator across the narrow street. We exchange glances, as if justifying that we've just thought the same way. And then we both take a leap of faith towards the elevator.

The fact that somehow, _somehow_ we land on top of it is a miracle. But miracles don't happen, not to us.

And as soon as I feel that elevator is disappearing from under my feet, I grab the cable, silently praying that Leon does the same.

'Don't look down'.

_Thank God._

'Wasn't planning to', I reply, and start climbing up. The shoulder I hit because of the harsh landing is singing in pain – seems like it's dislocated – but one fleeting thought about the burning Abyss right below us is enough for me to clench my teeth and to ignore it and to continue going up.

I hear a crashing sound behind me and turn around. Heaven sees that was my mistake. First, I see the complex structure between the skyscrapers falling to pieces. Second, with my blood going cold, I feel something hitting my aching shoulder, and muscles in my arm spasm and my fingers unclench on their own and there is nothing I can do to stop the free fall.

I close my eyes and hope that there won't be any pain and that it is over soon.

Someone seems to have other plans though.

The fall ends as quickly as it started. I feel someone grabbing my wrist and sharp pain shoots through my shoulder again.

_Thankyouthankyouthankyou._

Leon tries to lift me up, but it is obviously difficult enough for him to support even his own weight. I mentally apologize once again, asking him to bear with me a little longer and grab at his waist with one hand, pulling up, then grip at his shoulder and try not to think what could happen had it been him who was climbing first.

'Simmons!'

_You are kidding me._ But there he is, a monster, not even a shadow of his human self left. And there, on that bridge, is someone fighting him. Someone, huh. I doubt that I or Leon had hard time recognizing a small figure clad in red and black. But with Simmons being close, my thoughts are once again filled with nothing but desire of revenge and I hiss, 'He's still alive'.

Leon's thoughts, however, immediately switch to Ada. 'She really shouldn't have ditched the helicopter'.

_At least she has somewhat of a solid ground underneath her feet, what really can't be said about us._

'Guess it's not over between those two'.

'I'd offer a hand if I could spare one', I reply, never turning around.

'The faster you move, the sooner you get that chance'.

_I really wish you would remain silent, at least sometimes, Leon._

One of the bridges connecting the skyscrapers is almost within my reach and I urge myself _just a little bit more, come on, hand over hand, it's that simple_ when I hear a loud crash and the structure above falls on this very bridge, causing the center to collapse and cut the bridge in two. At least, there's enough space left for us to stand on.

As soon as I feel solid flat surface under my feet, I take the sniper rifle, glance around to make sure there's no one to suddenly bite me or push me down from my position and aim, ready to fire. The sniper rifle was quite useless to me, actually, especially taking into account that I am no sniper myself, but there is really not much we can do except to provide the cover fire for Ada, with Simmons being in front of her and out of our reach.

I aim at Simmons' head, patiently waiting for him to turn his face to me so that I could place the bullet right between his eyes. But as I'm about to pull the trigger, I hear someone – _damn you Leon! – _landing right beside me and this sound catches me by surprise, forcing me to lose my aim. I fire a shot nonetheless, missing Simmons' head and shooting him in the chest.

Leon takes deep breaths, taking aim, his jaw clenched. I take my place beside him and aim again when I hear someone – or, rather, something – walking beside us, but I'm only glad to quit my efforts at precise fire and engage into close combat. With no further thoughts I push one of the infected down from the bridge, then fire a bullet into another's head. When the third zombie joins its comrades in a free fall, I hear a quick succession of five shots beside me and a quiet 'Come on, Ada'.

With our position cleared, I take aim with my precision rifle once again. Seems like several bullets were enough to cause some damage to Simmons' systems, because with a growl his mutation is reversed, as it happened during our train confrontation, and it is probably painful since he is paralyzed for a moment.

Ada is wasting no time; you have to give her that. She jumps on Simmons, making him fall square on the back and starts hitting him, placing her punches wherever she can reach. There is nothing graceful about it, it is pure violence, but I find myself grinning, 'You're going down Simmons'.

There are times when you just need to shut up, but I'm too late to recognize these times. As soon as these words leave my mouth the bridge starts creaking and had we not darted to grab the cable, _we_ would be the ones going down.

Hand over hand, once again. The only difference now is that monster that seems to be determined to drag us down to the ground. But when I hear an automatic fire, followed by an ear-splitting screech, I realize that Wong is well damn intent on returning the favour.

This time, when a piece of metal is falling on me again, I only tighten my grip on the cable.

Simmons must be going insane, not knowing who the priority is for him. On the one hand, we've been the pain in the ass for quite long, on the other hand, Ada is delivering the same kind of problems for him.

At the moment I'm able to stand on the remains of yet another bridge, I hear a cry and we both turn around. Ada is lying on the structure a little bit below us, unconscious, and Simmons is preparing to deliver the final blow.

'Ada!' Before I can react, Leon is jumping to her. 'Helena, cover us!'

If only you had seen my aim several minutes ago, you wouldn't be so eager to place both your life and Ada's in my hands now. Though, you know, narrow bridge, face to face with Simmons… I really am better off here.

I sit down, placing my elbows on my knees to stabilize rifle and take aim again. It's as if Simmons is just in front of me, but I am intent on not allowing rage, fury and vengeance to consume me. But after the first shot I can feel with my skin how the infected are creeping up behind me.

'Hold on there, I have guests here that demand my attention'.

'As if we had another choice'. Leon's voice is hoarse, the situation is nothing the way we expected it to be.

The first zombie suddenly charges on me, but I dart to the right, and it falls down. The next one is met with a precise hit with the rifle; the third one gets the honour of receiving a bullet in the head. I kick the fourth one in the chest and send him to the free fall as well. It's ridiculous how easy it is to take the infected ones down with one or two precise kicks or shots, when Simmons received thousand bullets and is still alive. I seriously contemplate feeding a dozen of grenades to him.

I point the rifle at Simmons again and try to remember the lessons that were drilled into me years ago. Calm down. Don't hold your breath, but breathe evenly. Take aim. Shoot between the beats of your heart.

One, two, three.

'_You're starting to grow on me a little bit'._

I feel my pulse quickening but still, I pull the trigger the fourth time and miss the target by several meters.

_No, no, no._

The fifth shot misses again, but at least this bullet is buried somewhere in Simmons' body. Simmons is quite fast for his size, I got to say. And now he's running straight at Leon, and I silently plead him to get out of both Simmons' and my way, so that I could fire.

He doesn't.

'LEON!'

He manages to grab something and he doesn't fall. I take aim and pull the trigger…

I hear a click and nothing happens.

And there I was thinking that situation could not get any worse.

Ada, damn you, snap out, don't stand there as if you don't know what to do. Shoot Simmons, hit him, kick him, do something or Leon is going to fall.

I take a handgun, but there's no way I can shoot straight from such a distance.

Simmons is stepping on Leon's fingers and I hear a loud scream, and I want to close my eyes so badly, hoping that it's just a nightmare and I'm about to wake up.

The cry of pain seems enough to return Ada to reality, at least. Believe me, Miss Wong, had it been another second, I wouldn't hesitate to tear you apart the next time we'd meet. And I've no doubts that we'd have another encounter. I would seek you out myself.

Though, I think I would be more at ease, if Ada aimed for Simmons' head.

Seems like I need to get the hell out of here, before everyone around started going for me. And these two… Let them sort everything out. But, please, do it without me.

But, as usually, Ada disappears once again, and all Leon can do is to stand there, looking in the direction she went.

'What are you waiting for? Go after her'.

I place the gun in my lap and take a deep breath. Let him go. I'll make it through on my own, it's all my fault, after all.

There's static in the radio and then suddenly I hear his voice and it's enough to destroy whatever common sense I had this far.

'No, we're sticking together'.

'Idiot'. I notice that I'm speaking with my radio off, but, still, I repeat, 'Idiot'.

I wonder when this all began.

You weren't supposed to be more than a tool to help me to rescue my sister, Leon. At least, while I still had hope to find her safe and sound. I remember all the mental notes I made to myself about you. _Nice shot. Useful partner. Ambidextrous? Wow._ But when I let you in, I have no idea.

'_You're starting to grow on me a little bit'._

Gods, Leon, I've never even considered anything like this, not before you hinted this, knowingly or accidentally. Just don't say such words to anyone else, please; they could interpret it all the wrong way.

You're always there, when someone's in trouble and I remember how it annoyed me. But now? Now it seems so endearing. And all of a sudden I wish that we met some other time, without the world being on the verge of apocalypse and without us being battered and covered in dirt and blood from head to feet.

However, despite you always rushing to others' help, sometimes I find you awfully slow to think and to process certain hints. Still, I hope that you don't have any telepathic abilities and that you're not listening to my thoughts, laughing to yourself.

Right now, I wish everything was over, so that I'd never have to see you. So that I could forget.

So that I could not do something I may regret later.

* * *

**Chapter 3 teasers! (because I'm in a good mood after finishing almost all of my finals! :D)  
**

Alone for three days. Face to face with your memories. Stuck in your own head for seventy two hours.

* * *

I type back all too quickly.

**_Nope, nothing at all._**

* * *

'You do realize that she's been acting against state interest, don't you, Kennedy?'

'Define state interest'.


	3. Leоn

_Once again, thank you everyone for your warm comments, follows and favs :) And hey there, fellow Russian, who commented (СПАСИИИИБО! Очень приятно =)) :D_

_Also, as I promise, follow the link to find the song at the beginning of the chapter and the translation. Since forbids adding links, do the following: go to republicsprodigy on tumblr and add the postlink: **post/47607375019/song** All I can say is 'I TRIED', I spent quite a lot of time on this translation alone trying both to make lines short and not to lose the meaning.  
_

_As for the chapter itself I wrote and rewrote it several times, added and deleted whole paragraphs... I don't think I'm VERY happy with how it turned out, but it always was turning out this way, so, probably, that's how it wanted to be written._

_Bad news is: I haven't even started Chapter 4, so no teasers, sorry :( Except for the title that is **'How The Story Ends'**. I usually tried to make sure that I have at least half of the next chapter written before posting, but this time I kind of failed D:_

_Anyway, enough talking, hit the 'Play' button and (as I hope) ENJOY :)_

* * *

**Chapter 3. What I Didn't Say.**

_Enticing poison of blooming cherries,  
A tempting string of memories,  
I could not say everything I wanted,  
For humans are short to live under the moon.  
A sleepy night is full of wine,  
There's always 'then' where there's no 'tomorrow',  
You'll see between the lines  
What I didn't dare to say._

'_Quentin Dorak's Romance', Chancellor Gui_

They say that everything you do in adrenaline rush is never really registered by your memory. Right now I desperately wish it was true. Because the events of both China and Tall Oaks are so painfully clear that I thought I was losing my mind, especially with no one to hear me out.

Our return from China wasn't as peaceful as I expected it to be. The government agents were waiting for us and as soon as we set our feet on the ground they arrested us, since both I and Helena were still top suspects responsible for the President's death. Simmons' death was shortly to be added to our crime list.

We spent three days in cells, isolated from both the world and each other. I think I heard Helena's screams in the dead of night, but there's no way to say if it was true of if it was just a trick of imagination. But I wouldn't blame her if it was real.

Alone for three days. Face to face with your memories. Stuck in your own head for seventy two hours. I relived it all again and again: Tall Oaks destruction, the plane crash, abandoned Chinese market, skyscraper fight.

Interrogation was planned for the fourth day. They took Helena to the questioning first. I was horrified when they dragged her in the front of my cell. She looked like a china doll, pale and lifeless. When they were leading her back, she met my eyes and whispered, 'Hunnigan's there', which resulted in several pushes in back.

When I came in for questioning, Hunnigan indeed was sitting there, along with interrogators, and I felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders.

I was answering the questions in a calm voice, telling and retelling what had happened again and again, giving as many details as I could.

'I see, Agent Kennedy', the interrogator said, 'but do you have any evidence to justify your words?'

'I do'. Both interrogator and Hunnigan's eyes widened. 'The required data is on the memory card in my cellphone'.

_Please, please, you haven't got rid of it_

Hunnigan frowns, takes my cellphone out of her bag and gives it to the interrogator. He holds it out to me, and I open the files on the memory card, that Ada had left in the helicopter. Interrogator studies the screen thoughtfully and murmurs, 'Dismissed until further notice'.

Thankfully, this notice comes later the same day. I probably dozed off, but when I heard the door opening I immediately awoke.

Both Hunnigan and the interrogator were there, the former's face alight with a smile, the latter's dark with a frown.

'We found the evidence sufficient to prove your innocence, Kennedy', he said. 'You're clear of all the accusations'.

'And Helena?' I asked.

'We're still not sure what to do with her. She's put under home arrest until the commission returns a verdict'.

'The verdict? Is there even something to discuss? She was forced to act against the state, there's nothing she can be accused of!'

'And that, unfortunately, is not yours to decide, Kennedy. I also suggest you calm down before we changed our mind, since you did murder Simmons, after all'.

I had to take several deep breaths to calm down before asking, 'What date is set for the final hearing?'

'In a week'.

'Okay. Can I speak to Helena?'

'She's under home arrest, Kennedy. That kind of implies that she's forbidden to get in touch with everyone, except one person we allowed'.

'That person being...'

'Ingrid Hunnigan'.

Hunnigan must have noticed the look I gave her, so she quickly gestured on her phone and then moved her fingers as if typing a message. I nodded.

'That's not the worst option, honestly', I grinned, and Hunnigan returned me the look I'd given her seconds before.

Now I'm lying wide awake in my own bed, but sleep does not come. I worry for the commission hearing. I do hope that they have enough of common sense to find Helena innocent.

When sleep embraces me at dawn, the nightmares begin again. Among the familiar kaleidoscope there are new illusions. I see Simmons knocking the hookshot out of Ada's hand and then pushing her down from the skyscraper. Then I hear Helena's scream and see that she lost her grip on the cable. I stretch my arm, but she slips through my fingers and there is a resounding realization of _I failed_ pulsing in my mind.

I wake four hours later, covered in cold sweat.

I spend the day hanging around the apartment, unable to will the nightmare away. I try to concentrate on a book, but after staring at the first page for ten minutes I quit, and go to take a cold shower. When I return into my bedroom, there's a message on my phone.

_**I feel like Helena gave up trying. She's okay, but her attempts to joke at the situation start bothering me.**_

I remember how I saw Helena for a second, while we were under arrest, pale, with purple shadows under lifeless eyes and type the answer, _**Tell her that there's still hope and that I won't quit trying. She has the whole life ahead.**_

The answer is enough to knock the air out of me.

_**She – not so kindly – told me to tell you not to burden yourself with her problems, if to put her message in a friendlier manner. And I don't really like to play the part of postal-services-slash-interpreter.**_

And then,

_**You know, I remember that you sometimes think that it's your duty to save everyone but answer me honestly: did something happen between you two?**_

I type back all too quickly.

_**Nope, nothing at all.**_

I look at the screen, but the silence is my only answer. I feel like I need to occupy myself with something or I'll start howling.

Several seconds later I find myself flipping through the USSS database and stop when I see Helena's file. Curiosity gets the best of me and I open it. I scan through the information until my eyes stumble upon the subheading _**Penalties.**_

I tap it, see flashing letters _**Access granted**_ and look through this section. There are three entries listed chronologically backwards, the most recent one being murder of Simmons, then goes assistance of Tall Oaks attack and then I start coughing.

The last, third entry reads _**'Civilian assault: shot in the shoulder. Sanctions: transfer from CIA to USSS'.**_

That seems strange. In case of attacking a civilian the consequences are much harsher, including removal from the governmental agencies. So there are two options: either someone pulled the strings – and I think I have a couple of candidates – or there were some special conditions that resulted in not so severe measures.

'_Leon, this is…'_

'_Evidence that proves Simmons' guilt'._

'_Which means it will prove your innocence'._

'_Our innocence'._

' _I don't need it'._

I almost physically feel how the pieces of this puzzle fit together. I understand the fallen expression on Helena's face back then, and the reason for it was not fear or despair. She must have felt that she used up whatever credit she had and felt it only fair to take blame for this crime.

As this realization dawns on me I manage only to dishevel my hair and whisper to myself, 'Idiot. I'm getting you out whether you want it or not'.

The days leading to the commission hearing are really all the same, except that I don't try messaging anymore. Hunnigan still sends me short reports on a daily basis, but I never answer, until the message arrives the day before the hearing.

_**She's so sure she's going to be sentenced, it's really scary. Already asked me to grant her the last wish. Leon, I feel like she's going insane. She's sitting and thinking aloud whether her sentence will be life imprisonment or death. She even stopped her inappropriate jokes. Also, I was assigned to be a defendant representative, but Helena is refusing to turn up for hearing.**_

It takes me a while to process the information, since Hunnigan's reports have always been short yet informative. She must be really stressed.

_**I will attend the hearing as a witness for the defendant side. She's not going to jail, they have to take all the events into account and clear her of the accusations.**_

I pause for a second before adding, _**What did you say about her last wish?**_

The answer comes the next minute.

_**She wants to visit her sister's memorial.**_

'That's not so difficult to organize', I murmur aloud.

When the hearing starts next day, I am not nervous at all, what can't be said about Hunnigan. Still, she manages to control herself, presenting all the evidence in calm and measured voice and answering tricky questions the way we need. When it's my turn, the questioning becomes more aggressive and it takes some effort for me not to react to it.

'Name yourself'.

'Leon Scott Kennedy'.

'You were one of the top suspects as well, weren't you?'

_Here we go._

'I was'.

'But the accusations were annulled'.

'As you see'.

'And who did you such a favour?'

'I believe this has nothing to do with the case'.

The interrogator frowns and continues, 'Why do you defend Helena Harper?'

'I believe you did study the materials and know that she was blackmailed. Namely, her sister, now deceased Deborah Harper was kidnapped and held hostage by, now deceased as well, former National Security Advisor Derek C. Simmons, and he forced her to assist the attack. Miss Harper was under strong pressure, and she was forced to comply. This act, therefore, cannot be regarded as voluntary and thus, in my opinion, Miss Harper is to be cleared of the accusations'.

Hunnigan shows me thumbs up and I breathe out.

'You do realize that she's been acting against state interest, don't you, Kennedy?'

'Define state interest'.

'I am the one with the right to ask questions, Kennedy'.

I take a deep breath, cursing myself for talking back, and continue, 'I apologize. As I know, state interest includes safety of each and every citizen. While, let me remind you, nothing was done when Simmons was planning the attack. In this case, Miss Harper was acting in the state interest more than any of security forces, who facilitated the attack.'

I cast a glance at the judge, who has not uttered a word during my interrogation.

'Last question, Kennedy. For how long have you known Helena Harper?'

'Since June, 29th'. I don't miss a heartbeat answering it.

'That's quite the precise answer'.

'One does not simply forget the date of the Tall Oaks catastrophe'.

I am dismissed after that, and I desperately want to get away from here. It will be another two (if we are lucky) or three (if we are not so lucky) hours before the final verdict, and just sitting here doing nothing is putting me at edge.

'I'm getting the hell away from here', I whisper to Hunnigan.

She sends me an apologetic and understanding look. 'Go, I'll let you know about the verdict. Take her to Deborah's memorial. I doubt it'd be legal to go without additional security though…' She goes silent and then adds, 'I'll make a couple of calls. Agents will meet you at Helena's.'

Had there been fewer people, I'd probably hug Hunnigan. Instead, I only nod at her and practically run out of the building.

When I arrive at Helena's house, the government agents who are her 'additional security' are already there. One of them is waiting near the car and the other one had probably went to accompany Helena out of her apartment.

Several minutes later they come out. Helena is still pale, but at least purple shadows under her eyes disappeared, which makes looking at her a little bit less painful.

The agents make sure that Helena is not hiding any weapon on herself. I can see her flinching and I have a strange desire to explain to the agent that was checking her, in a very explicit form, what I am going to do with him if he dares to touch her again.

I have to shake my head to will unwanted thoughts away.

I get in the car in the backseat, near her, but Helena continues staring at her hands in her lap. When Hunnigan told me that Helena gave up I had no idea that the situation is so bad. It feels like she has nothing more worth fighting for and I have no idea how to prove her wrong.

When I notice her moving, I turn to her and want to try to make her say something, react to the world around in any way. She's facing away from me, looking outside the window.

We're driving down the central street with many small counters. When I notice a flower kiosk, an idea strikes me and I say to the driver, 'Stop here for a second'. He gives me an annoyed look, but stops anyway.

I get out of the car, head to the kiosk and look at the flowers. The kiosk owner looks up from her magazine, smiles to me and asks something, but I don't reply. She turns completely silent, waiting for me to make up my mind.

I think I was staring at the flowers for full five minutes until a bouquet of white chrysanthemums caught my eyes. I don't even realize it, until the girl behind the counter asks me if I want to buy the bouquet and I nod unconsciously.

Maybe white flowers are not what you bring to the grave. But there in my head this is what represents an innocent victim. I also remember something about people in the East associating white colour with death, but in all insanity I can't know for sure if it is really so or if my damaged mind made it up.

When I get back into the car, Helena still pays no attention to me until I hand the bouquet to her and mutter, 'It's for Deborah'.

She suddenly looks up, looking at me, as if she's never seen me in her life, and at the bouquet.

'But…'

'I thought it'd be rude not to bring anything for your sister'.

She tries to say something else, but then takes the bouquet and clutches it to herself. I notice her knuckles turning white and look away, but I can swear I hear a quiet sob and something that resembles a 'thank you'.

The trip until graveyard does not take us long. Somewhere on the way a message from Hunnigan comes, asking about our whereabouts and I reply. Maybe I should have asked about the verdict, but I'm not sure if I want to know.

The car stops suddenly. When I get out, I see Helena standing already, her hands trembling, looking at Deborah's memorial. I give her a soft push in the back and watch her slowly coming to the memorial, sitting down and placing the flowers on it. I don't dare coming closer to her but my eyes never leave her, since I'm one of her security guards.

_Yeah, sure, keep on making up excuses, that's very entertaining._

With nothing to occupy my mind, a strange train of thought once again starts unfolding on its own.

_This is the end. Simmons is dead. I am cleared of all the accusations and found innocent. Ever since our return, there's no news of Ada._

I struggle against the next thoughts, but I lose the battle.

_I'll do anything to protect Helena. I'll be damned if they try to take her away from me._

I think that a voice inside my head makes some sarcastic comment about it, but another car is parking and Hunnigan all but slams the door open and approaches me in quick steps.

I freeze, bracing myself for the worst.

But Hunnigan comes up to me, breathes out 'She's cleared' and gives me Helena's handgun. I repeat her words to myself several times before their meaning becomes clear to me; I hide the handgun in an inner pocket of my jacket and pretend that I'm indifferent about the news, when the voice in my head is singing.

I look at Helena again, but this time my thoughts take completely opposite direction. I'm not scared about her falling into the flaming inferno. I'm not afraid that she's going to spend the rest of her life in a solitary confinement, descending into insanity. Right now, I'm assured that she'll dedicate her life to fighting for us all. That she'll make sure no more such catastrophes happen. That no one has to lose someone dear the way she did.

I dread one thing, though. As much as I hate to acknowledge it, I don't want even to think that I might never see her again.

'It's time for me to take responsibility'.

I blink several times and focus on Helena. She's standing straight, facing me, looking straight into my eyes, probably expecting me to cuff her and to hand over to the security guards. 'Thank you', she says and casts a glance at the agents, who wait patiently beside the car. 'I'm ready'.

_Sorry, that's so not going to happen._

I grab her wrist and notice a trace of fear crossing her face. She looks at me once again before closing her eyes, not even trying to resist and break free. I only sigh and firmly place her gun in her hand.

As soon as her firearm touches her skin, the expression of fear and acceptance turns into complete confusion, and I can't help but smile.

'But I assisted in the attack!'

I hear Hunnigan coughing and turn to her, allowing her to explain everything – the interrogation, the commission hearing and the verdict. I myself am interested in the verdict, since I left the trial as soon as I could.

'The investigating commission has reviewed the evidence and feels it unjust to hold you liable for Simmons' crime. They will also not be disclosing their findings to the public'.

I am fine with this. I don't think I want to know the details. Helena looks as if Hunnigan has suddenly started speaking in Tibetan, and she doesn't understand a word. 'But…'

'The President would have done the same', I interrupt her. Helena almost imperceptibly shakes her head, but when she looks up again, there is determination in her eyes and once again the smile finds its way onto my lips.

'All right, shall we join the team?'

Helena is all but shining, looking at me, and I realize something. It is the first time ever I see her smiling with nothing there to burden her. She looks like an absolutely different person, without being stained with despair, vengeance and acceptance of inevitable. And there are a lot of things I want to say to her, to this new person, but I just can't find proper words.

The voice in the back of my consciousness, however, whispers to me, _The story's come to its end. Everyone got what they deserved._ I wish I could disagree.

'Leon!'

I return from my thoughts into the reality and I have exactly half a second to realize that something is about to hit me right between the eyes and to catch it.

I look at the Ada's compact in my hand and wait for Helena to explain it.

'For the next time you see her!'

_For the next time I see her…_ Another thought hits me. After all these years, I unconsciously learnt to associate Ada with trouble. If you ever find yourself among the insanity and destruction, just wait for her to show up, and the further it all went, the less I understood her motives. If I was ever given another chance, I would still chase her through all these years, but I don't want this anymore. It is strange how easily this decision comes to me, as if I'd decided it all long ago but only now do I have the courage to acknowledge this.

Maybe there is another Universe and another Earth. Another me and another Helena about to part their ways. But in that Universe I am daring enough to take Helena's hand, pull her closer, embrace her, kiss her and never let her go again. And she is putting her arms around me and kisses back.

In this reality, however, I just stand there, watching her back, desperately wanting to reach out but at the same time afraid to. I dread the moment she gets into the car, because it will mean that I let her go, and that all that's left are regrets about what I did not say.


	4. Hеlena

_Hello everyone! Thank you once again for your lovely reviews, I feel like I'll have to do a whole 'Acknowledgements' section thanking each and every one of you! ^_^_

_Also, miroia: you can write reviews in Russian, don't worry ^_^ (серьезно, русский вообще мой родной язык, поэтому ситуация слегка забавная, да? =))_

_As for this chapter, plot progress here is small, really. The final is not what I originally planned a month ago, but it enables me to write the fifth chapter (so, yeah, there's going to be the fifth chapter :D)_

_Enjoy reading! (at least, I hope you do!)_

* * *

**Chapter 4. How the Story Ends**

_Rescue me, show me who I am,  
_'_Cause I can't believe this is how the story ends.  
Fight for me, if it's not too late,  
Help me breathe again…  
No, this can't be how the story ends._

_Kerrie Roberts, 'Rescue Me (How the Story Ends)'._

Over the years that I've been working as a government agent, I've seen a lot. You don't just decide to step over the law and become a criminal. There's usually some reason for it, or, if not, a person can just be mentally ill. And I saw them. Serial killers, suicide bombers… The list is endless. And I've always been wondering, what must happen to twist a person's mind like this.

Now I feel like I know.

It surprised me, the feeling of my mind being split up. On the one hand, there's sick, twisted, perverted pleasure I never thought I was able to feel burning deep inside me, as I watch Simmons falling down into fire and the giant needle on the obelisk burying itself in the center of his back. On the other hand, I make some mental notes to myself, staying perfectly calm and unflinching. Probably Simmons' body was able to get rid of the bullets and to regenerate, but now there's no way he'll be able to do it. The needle is stuck right in the center of his body, piercing through him, shattering his spine, damaging his central nervous system and rupturing his internal organs, and it stops the regeneration from beginning again.

I feel the hysteria building up. I want to scream at him, to beat the solid ground beneath me. But, damn it, I feel so exhausted, I don't think I have any strength left, so I only manage to hiss, 'That's for my sister'.

Once we make sure that Simmons is dead for good, we head for the helicopter. There's a compact on one of the seats, and inside it a memory chip is hidden. I see Leon's hands shaking a little as he checks the data on the chip, which turns out to be the evidence against Simmons.

'…It will prove your innocence', I smile to him. He looks at me, confused, and corrects me, '_Our_ innocence'.

'I don't need it'.

Leon opens his mouth as if to say something, but there's an incoming call from Hunnigan, and mere seconds later the explosions start. He ends the call in a rush and almost forcefully pushes me into the chopper and we manage to get away before the building collapses.

I knew, however, that there would be no peaceful return, not for me, at least.

And it turned out I was right.

I wasn't resisting during the arrest, unlike Leon. He tried to throw the agents off him, but then his eyes flicker to me, and there's a hurt expression on his face. I only shake my head.

I hope that that's it, that they're taking us for the interrogation and that Leon is released and I know my fate. Instead they lock us up and tell to wait. When I ask for how long, they don't answer.

I alternate between going round in circles and sitting with my back to the wall. All I know is that I must not fall asleep now, at any price. I keep my mind occupied by solving simple mathematical problems, by listing technical characteristics of some weapons, by tracing my finger on the floor, remembering some of the hieroglyphs from China, but never really comprehending their meaning.

But there's not really much you can do against an adrenaline outflow and my body wins over my mind.

My dreams are darkness and blue fog, cold hands on my neck and shoulders, water that causes seizure. My dreams are letting go of my already long-lost sister, searching for exit, but failing to find, despair that sucks the warmth out of you and I wake up shivering.

It doesn't feel like I was sleeping though. It feels more as if I lost consciousness and was in the state of comatose and I feel more exhausted than I was before.

It's obvious that keeping my mind occupied doesn't help at all, as it falls into routine. I try to make up something that would prevent me from falling asleep, and it occurs to me, that people usually have difficulties with sleep when they're in pain.

So I start scratching my arms until my skin is red and raw, but it doesn't help either.

On the contrast, this time I see raging flames and reflecting glass, bullets over my head and wind in my face. I'm running, falling and getting up to keep on running, my whole body burning hundreds of times and I jerk awake covered with sweat and with heartbeat echoing in my ears.

I think I'm about to start howling and hitting walls, but I know that it's not going to get me anywhere. I know that I need to get some sleep, or I'll start hallucinating in the daylight, if I ever going to see it again.

I take deep breaths, trying to calm my heartbeat, and close my eyes. I imagine a silent, peaceful place, the sound of running water and the wind, playing in the trees. I'm almost glad when I feel my eyelids becoming heavier and heavier and I welcome the oblivion.

But instead of nothingness I've been craving, I dream of the eyes the colour of the stormy sky and of deceptively tender voice and of rare smiles. I dream of exhausted _'Man, you're a sight for the sore eyes'_, of smiling _'You're starting to grow on me'_, of delirious _'You're not leaving me'_ and of determined _'We're sticking together'_ and, finally, of threatening _'You can kiss your freedom goodbye' _and it's probably the worst nightmare I ever had.

I scream of powerlessness when I emerge from this dream, and when they come to take me for interrogation I'm almost happy. On my way I see Leon's cell, I see him shifting when he notices me but I pretend not to.

The interrogator himself seems stunned by the fact that I don't even try to defend myself. I don't even control what I'm saying, I just let the words flow and I see Hunnigan gasping in shock and covering her mouth with hands.

When we return and go by Leon's cell again, I try to whisper to him that Hunnigan's there, that everything's going to be alright, but the guard pushes me in the back almost causing me to fall.

I wait, losing track of time. Seconds turn into minutes and then into hours, hours fly by and disintegrate into moments and I pray for all of this to finally be over, because fear of the unknown future is literally tearing me apart inside.

I zone out and come back to my senses when I hear Hunnigan's voice. I've never heard her sound so harsh during the years I've known her.

'Okay, you two, come over here. Helena's under your responsibility now. Take her home and I swear to God if something happens, I'll shoot you myself. Understood?'

I blink several times and ask her, though my speech sounds so uncoordinated to me right now, 'What's happening?'

Hunnigan looks at me and says in a stern voice, 'They're placing you under home arrest as a temporary measure. So we're just taking you home, until the final hearing'.

Home arrest, final hearing… My mind is a mess. All I can do is nod and try to get up without losing balance and to hand myself over to the agents who are waiting for me.

I don't really remember the way to home, so I must have dozed off again. But I do remember stepping inside my house and listening to the agents saying that they're going to be nearby for security measures and drawing a polite smile on my face, nodding, 'Sure, sure, of course, I understand'.

Then they leave and my knees finally give out and everything goes black.

On the edge of my consciousness I hear a voice, that resembles Hunnigan's, crying 'Helena!', then something – and, very probably, someone – dropping on the floor, and when I feel a hand on my shoulders I know that it's real.

'Come on, open your eyes'.

I try to, I really try to, and when I finally manage to, I see Hunnigan sitting beside me on the floor and several bags scattered around her.

'Come on, can you stand up?'

I think I can, so I nod.

'That's good. Stand up and go to shower. I figured you don't have much to eat at home, since you've been away, so I brought something. And', she adds as I open my mouth to say something, 'don't you dare to object. Right now you're eating and going to sleep, okay? Morning's wiser than evening'.

'How's Leon?'

'He's been cleared', Hunnigan smiles in answer and I breathe out 'Thank God', before I finally manage to position myself vertically and head to the shower, although my path poorly resembles a straight line.

After the shower and the dinner, I probably feel the closest to being a human than I did during the last week. I thank Hunnigan for her care and retreat into my room.

As I close the door, I feel cold creeping up my spine. I dread the night, I dread going to sleep. I can name at least three nightmares that are probably going to haunt me and I don't know which one is the worst of all.

No, scratch that. I _do_ know which one.

So I sit in my bed, wrapped in the blanket, with my eyes wide open. Once again my heart rate jumps and my whole body starts shaking.

The door creaks as someone opens it and Hunnigan comes in with a steaming cup in her hands. 'Drink', she orders as she gives it to me, and I don't ask any questions as I do so. I feel my pulse almost forcefully going down, my eyelids growing heavy and it's as if bones are removed from my body. I still manage to mumble 'Thanks' before falling back on the pillow and falling asleep.

This time my dreams are blissful emptiness, silence and nothingness.

When I wake, the sun is already high in the sky and I guess it's nearing the afternoon. I go downstairs only to find Hunnigan there with a cup of coffee in her hands, reading a fresh newspaper.

'Morning!' she greets me almost too cheerfully. 'I hope you don't mind me here'.

'Even if I did, you're my only channel of communication with the rest of the world, so, no, not really', I grin in answer.

She puts the cup at the table and opens her mouth to say something, but I interrupt her, 'Thanks for bearing with me. I swear, just a little bit more and I won't be a nuisance to anyone anymore. And', I manage to smile, 'you'll finally be sure that no one is going to screw something up during a mission'.

'Listen, the commission has the evidence concerning Simmons. I managed to glimpse at it. We'll do everything to clear you, and Leon…'

'I don't need his stupid hero ass saving me, _especially_ after he sworn that I can kiss my freedom goodbye if I was connected with the attack in any way'.

Said is dead, and the words don't register in my mind for full two minutes. Then I push the chair away from the table and storm away into my room.

After this incident, Hunnigan doesn't bring up the hearing in general and Leon in particular anymore. She still comes to me every day, bringing something, and sometimes even manages to get me to talk to her. One time we almost ended up fighting during a discussion of a book-to-movie adaptation, but, honestly, it all reminds me of some necromancy ritual in attempts to bring me back, because, let's face it, in less than a week, I'm dead anyway, either as an agent or as a human being.

Days go by.

If we don't mention the hearing, it doesn't mean that it's going to disappear. And it's tomorrow. And no matter how long I'm going to pretend that I'm fine, I'm terrified.

Hunnigan went out of the room a couple of minutes ago to answer a phone call and I'm left alone with the working TV. The announcer is talking but I don't seem to comprehend a word and my thoughts are dead fixated on the trial, which I refused to even attend.

_I wonder if it's life imprisonment or death sentence. I fear death, every human does. Besides, if I didn't, I'd died on the first assignment. But I don't want to spend the eternity alone, trapped within the same four walls, spiraling down into insanity. Yeah, death is probably better. Easier. Quicker. But I doubt they are going to let me go that easily._

There's a sound of something dropping to the floor. I look up from TV and see Hunnigan standing nearby, her face expression not being the polite kindness or surprise, but clear shock, and she says, 'Sorry, _what?!_'

I realize I must have been thinking aloud, but I just shrug and return my attention to the news program on TV.

Hunnigan turns around on her heels and rushes out of the room, dialing someone or typing a message. When I ask her whom she's calling, she replies, 'The only person except for me that's refusing to give up on you'.

Panic starts closer to the night.

Hunnigan has already gone home, so I'm left alone. I go upstairs and get into the tub, take several deep breaths and slide underwater.

For a minute, there's nothing but dim light and sound of water pressure against my ears, and it calms me down until I have to emerge. I repeat it, again and again, until I feel perfectly calm, but most probably it's the next stage of my descent into despair.

Before I fall asleep, there's a fleeting thought of _Maybe I should go to the trial tomorrow_, but when I wake up I'm not sure if I really thought it or if was a dream.

When the morning comes and my mind urges me to get up, I stubbornly clutch the pillow closer and close my eyes tighter. But I have to get up, and the whole day reminds me of waiting for interrogation once again, except that the only thing I do now is going around the house, biting my nails and scratching my arms.

I jump when I hear the doorbell ring.

I don't know whom I awaited to see there, but there are two governmental agents.

'Helena Harper?'

'Yes?' I stiff a little bit. _No, no, please._

'We received a call from Ingrid Hunnigan, requesting us to accompany you to the city graveyard'.

So they're here to grant me my last wish then. I don't know why I'm thinking it, but it sounds as if they are to accompany me to _my_ grave.

I ask them to wait a little, because I need to dress; they nod, and one of them is leaving to wait for us outside.

I head to my room and close the door and feel panic and hysteria building up again.

On an armchair there is a suit I've been wearing while on the mission in Tall Oaks. I examine it, as if seeing it for the first time and put it on. The whole process doesn't take more than fifteen minutes and then I look at my reflection in the mirror and compare what I see to that me two weeks ago.

I have a strange desire to shatter the mirror into dust.

When we leave the house and head to the car, the other agent stops me and says, 'I'm sorry, but we need to make sure that you don't have any weapon on you'.

'Go ahead'.

From the corner of my eye I see someone else approaching us, but pay no attention to this person. The agent checks my arms, – _that's freaking ridiculous, where can I hide something, under my skin?_ – legs, but when his hands make contact with my waist, I flinch and clench my teeth to suppress the reflexes and not to kick him.

I turn away and my eyes focus on that person.

It's Leon.

And I feel my heart falling. His face is unreadable and I take that for bad news.

When this inspection is over, I get into the car and hear him sitting down beside me as well. I try not to look at him and just stare out of the window.

As we're making our way to the graveyard, I silently name the streets we're passing. I will miss it, the small houses outside the city, the sky, the sun.

'Stop here for a second'.

I almost jump at the sudden sound of his voice, but don't turn to him.

The car stops at the street with many small kiosks and I feel a dumb pain inside as I remember how I and Deborah used to walk here. How we used to sit in the café. How we used to play tags, when she was a little girl. How she pushed me into the fountain on the street corner a couple of years ago, and I chased her for several minutes, but caught her and retaliated by doing the same and we scared all the pigeons away.

I don't know how much time passes, but then I hear the door closing and turn to the sound and see Leon with a bouquet of white chrysanthemums.

'It's for Deborah'.

'But…'

'I thought it'd be rude not to bring anything for your sister'.

And it takes all the willpower left not to burst into tears. I try to say something, but all too soon I realize that probably I'll end up crying, so I take the bouquet and hide my face in it. Still, I can't suppress the hiccups as I whisper 'Thank you'.

The memorial is the first thing I see when the car stops. The memorial, not the grave. I know that they searched the underground laboratory, but failed to find the body. And it wasn't my sister's body that's left there, not really, because there was little left of her in that monster, nothing, but physical features.

My sister, Deborah Harper, died without leaving a trace on the Earth.

I feel a gentle push in the back and, stumbling, I come up to the memorial and sit on the ground, and talk, to myself and to my sister, just my lips moving and not a single sound escaping them.

_Hi, sis. I'm sorry it took so long to visit you. I'm sorry that you had to live through such horrors, that I couldn't save you, as an older sister must. I'm sorry I was too late there._

_But you can rest peacefully now. I remember how you always worried for your friends before the exams or important events. You never worried about yourself, but always were biting nails about how they would do. But rest peacefully now. Because the man responsible for such an atrocity is dead._

_You always were worrying for me. Oh, irony._

_I don't know where you are, but I have a feeling that you're looking out for me. It's the only explanation of how we managed to return home alive._

_Thank you, sis. Watch out and wait for me a little longer._

_Maybe I'll see you soon._

_I'm sorry for being such a failure._

I put the flowers at the memorial and say a tiny prayer. And, unconsciously, I pray Deborah to look out for Hunnigan and Leon when I won't be able to.

'It's time for me to take responsibility'.

I stand up and turn around. Hunnigan arrived as well, I must have missed the sound of another car parking.

At least I'll hand myself over to the people whom I trust wholeheartedly.

There's one thing left unsaid, however.

I meet Leon's eyes for a brief moment and whisper, 'Thank you'.

I wish I could explain to him, what for this 'thank you' is. It's for trusting me when everyone thought me untrustworthy. For helping me even though I was withholding information. For following me into the hell and back again. For never giving up on me.

_I just wish that we've met in another lifetime._

The guards are here. This is the end.

'I'm ready'.

Leon averts his eyes for a second before grabbing me by the wrist and for the first time I'm scared. What I feel is not anxiety in the face of the unknown, not despair, because there's nothing you can do, not panic because you don't _know_ what to do, but the pure fear, the one which freezes your insides and paralyzes you.

But instead of the cold metal of the cuffs on my wrist I feel the familiar weight of my handgun. It feels like I've been inside the glass cocoon and it's broken now.

I don't understand what's going on. I _refuse_ to understand what's going on.

Because the voice inside my head insists that it's my ticket to the freedom.

My brain and tongue refuse to cooperate and all I can force out is 'But I assisted in the attack!'

_Somebody, please, tell me I'm not dreaming._

Hunnigan coughs, hiding her smile and explains, 'The investigating commission has reviewed the evidence and feels it unjust to hold you liable for Simmons' crime. They will also not be disclosing their findings to the public'.

'The President would have done the same', Leon adds, still looking at me, but I almost can't hear him. The pulse is beating in my ears, drowning out his voice, and then as I look up again, it seems that my senses are on the overdrive, the colours are too vivid, the wind is too loud and the smell of grass is too strong.

Only now I start to comprehend their words' meaning.

I

Am

Free

And I want to sing.

I don't know what I look like now, but I must be gleaming with joy, because Hunnigan smiles, and urges us to go.

I take a couple of steps before I realize something.

I have something that belongs to Leon. And I need to give it back.

I clutch Ada's compact, and turn around. Leon is standing with his back to me, looking at the sky, obviously lost in his thoughts. For all I know, I might never see him again.

We are the stories we live. We are nothing but characters in the tale of the world, bound to cross and separate our paths. And in Leon's story, I'm obviously not one of the protagonists, but a secondary character, who is introduced for plot and protagonist's development. It means that I was bound to go, earlier or later.

But I have my own story. Call it a spin-off. But even in spin-offs there is a tiny chance of meeting familiar protagonists again.

My role in this story, however, ended. But I can make it count.

I take the compact, aim and call Leon's name, throwing Ada's present at him.

His reaction is as good as always and he catches it. I think I'm even a little bit disappointed because of that.

'For the next time you see her!' I explain and see him grin in answer, muttering something that suspiciously resembles 'Women'.

A small part of my mind, however, refuses to let go, as I count down how many steps left before I reach the car.

Six.

_And you're going to give up so easily?_

Five.

_Harper, you turn around now, do you hear me?!_

Four.

_You take the pen and write the continuation of this story, right here and right now!_

Three.

_All regrets are burden of your conscience now and don't you dare to blame me because I tried to change your mind until the very last second._

But when there are only two steps left, I hear Leon calling out my name.

* * *

_A/N: but I think you guessed it's not how the story ends :) I'm sorry for the lack of teasers once again, but I figured out chapters' titles already! Title for chapter 5 is **'Rapture'** and then there's a small epilogue **'Ascent'**. The time BETWEEN putting out chapter 5 and epilogue will be short, but I don't know how much time I'm going to need for the next chapter, because a) it's going to be long, if everything goes as I planned and b) I feel like I'm going to have elbow-biting moments writing it._

_Anyway, see ya!_


	5. Lеon

_*makes a sound of a deflating balloon* Bitten elbows? Check. Table broken as a result of a massive headdeask? Check. Anyway, here it is and if you're reading it and if you're not going to throw rotten tomatoes at me, my gratitude will know no limits in reasonable boundaries :) En...joy?  
_

_PS: Also, I brushed up previous chapters. There were some typos and I messed up words, but I think I found all those things and successfully got rid of them. Still, if you see any, feel free to write, and I'll fix it! :)  
_

* * *

**Chapter 5. Rapture.**

_I will take your thoughts away  
And I'll ignite your fear today.  
Well, I can take you far away  
With my mind, with my mind._

_Cold, 'With My Mind'_

_There, I said it._

Both Helena and Hunnigan have turned around, surprise and confusion all over their faces. Hunnigan is obviously fighting a smile – and actually manages to conceal it – but the voice in my mind is laughing.

'Do you mind if I steal agent Harper from you?'

'Only if agent Harper doesn't mind herself', Hunnigan replies, crossing her arms.

We both look at Helena, who in turn alternates between looking at me and at Hunnigan, and for a second I think that she looks as if she's about to run away. But she just raises her arms in defeat and murmurs, 'I don't really mind a walk, just for a change'.

'Are you sure?' Hunnigan asks, casting me a glance, and suddenly I feel very uncomfortable under her gaze.

'Yeah', Helena replies, smiling, and gestures at her to go. 'Believe me, I'm not a little girl and able to defend myself just in case'.

'Oh, I assure you my intentions are only honourable', I retaliate, and Hunnigan literally rubs her forehead, before finally getting into car and driving away, leaving us alone.

_I believe we have difficult definitions of 'honourable', aren't we?_

When the car disappears from our sight, Helena sighs, turns to me and asks, looking me dead in the eyes, 'I don't even know if I really want to know this, but I have only two short questions: how and why?'

I hide my hands in pockets, turn away and take a couple of steps. 'If you want answers, you should be ready to give some yourself', I say, and when I hear her steps behind me, I smile to myself.

We leave the graveyard in complete silence and I head for the park near the town outskirts. Helena seems to keep her distance, walking as far away from me as it possible without being rude. Sometimes I stop and take a step towards her, but she steps back at the same moment. There's uncomfortable silence between us and I understand that I am to break it.

We enter the park and go to the hill. It's quiet here, and the sun slowly starts to set.

'So', I begin to speak, 'what was the incident with you attacking a civilian?'

'How do you know that?'

'USSS database', I reply. 'So?'

Silence falls once again. Helena sits down on the bench, looks at the sun, shielding her eyes and mutters under her breath, 'It was my sister's boyfriend'.

I feel my blood running cold and the voice inside mocks me, _Well done. Just rubbed the fresh wound open._

'Sorry, I-I didn't mean to…'

'No, that's okay', she says, still looking at the sky, and it seems like she's talking to herself and not to me. 'I can't avoid the topic forever'.

I sit near her and hold my breath.

'I was just back from the assignment, maybe two or three days later, when the call from the hospital came. Needless to say, I rushed there immediately, even managed to get to Deborah. She… looked bad. Bruises all over her arms. I remember she refused to say who had done it, but occasionally gave up and turned him in'.

'And you?'

She laughs sadly and continues, 'Now that I think about it, I reacted as a psycho. Rushed to that bastard's place only to find that no one was home and decided to ambush him'. Helena shakes her head and sighs. 'When he returned, I assaulted him right at the door. I guess I've beaten him up pretty badly and ended up shooting him in the shoulder and then just ran away'.

'And that's it? No inner argument about that?'

'I put my mind at ease by reminding myself that I called the ambulance at least. What?' she questions, looking at me shaking my head in disbelief.

'You just never struck me as a psycho type, you know?'

She smiles again, this time it turns out more sincere. 'I don't know if I should treat this as a compliment. Well, my turn. Why?'

'Why what?'

'Why you decided to defend me after all? I mean, I take it the President was your old friend, wasn't he?'

'Oh, come on, you literally spent a week under Hunnigan's watch and she still didn't mention "Hero's Syndrome"'?

Helena starts coughing and looks at me, arching her brows, 'What-what syndrome?'

'Well, it involves heightened sense of justice, sudden impulses to help everyone around, and that's nothing to laugh at', I conclude, casting a glance at Helena, who covers her mouth with her hand to hid the smile. 'Anyway, how come you ended up just transferring from CIA to USSS?'

'Actually, it ended up cancelling my transfer to DSO'.

_Oh…_

'Sherry is currently a DSO agent', I reply lamely.

'Sherry? That girl? I guess I don't know the whole story, but you seemed to care about her like one would care about daughter'.

'She's actually two years your senior'.

_And this was totally uncalled for!_

Weird silence fills the air once again and I look around, trying to find something to talk about, something silly, _something_ to end this silence.

Thankfully, I notice a drink counter and ask Helena, 'Want to drink something?'

She looks the same direction, 'Uhm, well, thank you. If they have cherry juice…'

'I'll check'.

When I return I just can't refrain myself from yelling, 'Catch this' and Helena does catch the bottle. She places it on the bench near her, and reaches into her pocket, 'How much do I owe you?'

'None. Think of it as of a tiny celebration and I'm paying'.

I return to the bench. Helena says something, but I can barely hear her voice, so I move closer and ask her to say it again. She repeats, but I can't make out a single word again. She looks at my confused face, coughs, and breathes out, 'Will I ever see you again?'

It was probably the question I least expected to hear from her.

_Helena, you…_

'Nevermind', she says all too quickly and at the same moment I whisper to myself 'I wish I knew', but she doesn't seem to have noticed it. Instead, she all but jumps at her feet and looks up, letting the setting sun warm her face and I can't bring myself to watch anywhere else but at her at that moment.

Helena must have called me a couple of times because the next thing I remember is her sitting down and waving her hand in front of my face. 'I-I'm sorry, did you say anything?'

'I said that I probably should go already, I mean…'

'I'll walk you home'.

_Listen to yourself, just listen!_

And the bad thing, I do listen to what I'm saying and I fully understand that it's such nonsense at times, but I just can't shut up. I don't want the uncomfortable silence, so I start remembering stupid moments aloud, smiling at her, when she's laughing. And she's not keeping the distance anymore – _just reach out with your hand – _so I'm more than happy.

The road seems too short to me, but no matter how much I ask, it's not going to become longer. The night is not going to suddenly decide not to fall as well.

'Well, we're here', Helena says, hiding her arms behind. 'Thank you for, uhm, the day off I guess'. She takes a step towards the door, but then notices my arched brow and for what seems like the hundredth time this day, asks, her voice light, 'What?'

'Come on, Harper, for what I know we might never see each other again, could have given me a goodbye hug at least'.

'I promise I'll be sending postcards', she smiles before opening her arms and gesturing me to come closer.

I never expected the embrace to be so tight. There's a spark of hope igniting, and the whole decision-making takes no more than a fraction of second.

It doesn't really matter though. No matter how long you think something over, weighing pros against contras, your last thought in most cases is the same. Moreover, the longer you think, the higher is the probability of _Well, damn it _being your last thought.

When she releases me, I place my hand on her neck and brush my lips against hers.

I don't know what I expected her reaction to be. Maybe backhanding me. But she's just standing there, frozen, hands at her sides, eyes wide open in shock.

At least it was enough to shut the voice in my head up for good.

I'm torn between being afraid of scaring her away and needing to get closer. I refrain myself, I do. The kiss is soft, just an airy touch of lips, but, God, how long I wished for it.

When we part, Helena pushes me away; the expression on her face is a mix of disbelief and hurt.

'I'm sorry', I breathe out, knowing that it's possibly not going to change anything. 'I had to try, at least once'. _I must have read you wrong_, but I don't say this, because it already looks like some twisted psychological experiment.

'I'll make sure you'll never see me again', I say and turn away.

_This went wrong in so many ways._

I'm dead intent on going away, but then I hear a loud 'LEON!' piercing through the silence and there's no way I'm not turning around.

Helena is still standing there, at the same spot, her fists clenched, and her chest rising and falling heavily. She looks down for a second before raising her eyes on me and saying just two words.

Just two words.

_Kiss me._

It's all the invitation I need.

This time she meets me halfway, her lips slightly open, her eyes closed, her arms finding their way around my neck. This time I feel braver, embracing her, caressing her neck, angling my head to bring her closer. On the other side of the road there's a group of youngsters, shouting and whistling at us, and an elder woman, voicing her discontent, but I couldn't care less about all of them now.

We part, gasping for air, but I'm not ready to let her go, afraid that everything is going to fade away. My hand is still on the back of her neck, our foreheads touching, and breaths coming out ragged. Helena slowly opens her eyes and meets mine, but then looks away, biting her lip. 'I…'

I hush her, reaching down for another kiss, but she turns away and my lips brush her cheek instead. I frown and ask her if something's wrong.

'Leon, I swear to God, if this is some sick game…'

'Then you can shoot me down for all I care', I finish the sentence, take her by the chin and pull for another kiss.

Then Helena takes my hand and takes a step towards her house; noticing my confusion, she just smiles and invites me in and this takes several seconds to comprehend, but I follow her.

She closes the door, excuses herself, murmurs something like 'Make yourself comfortable' and disappears on the stairs. I take several seconds to look around. The house is not large by any means, but the space is used efficiently and it feels warm here. I take the jacket off, go to what looks like a living room, sit down on the sofa and let the realization sink in.

All I needed was a couple of hours. That's all it took to collect the courage, to do what had to be done and to shut my inner voice up. This thought almost makes me laugh and I throw my head back, my eyes closed.

I don't hear Helena coming back, more like feel it, just like sometimes you can sense that someone is standing right behind you, even when you don't even know that someone is there. I catch her hand, never opening my eyes, kiss her hand, wrist, forearm, and smile when I hear a quiet gasp.

'Come here'.

'I thought maybe you wanted something…' There's uncertainty in Helena's voice, I hear the tremble, but then she falls silent, when I start drawing circles on her wrist. 'Leon…'

I open my eyes and look at her. She changed into tank top and what looks like pajama pants, her hair is damp, and there's not a trace of the focused woman with a spine of steel. She looks vulnerable and – I fight the thoughts but fail, fail miserably and my breath catches at my throat – she looks naked.

'Come here. Please' I'm ashamed how it sounds almost like begging, but Helena doesn't seem to notice.

She goes around and sits beside me. I take it as another chance to steal a kiss, but when I embrace her shoulders, she suddenly outstretches her arm and snatches a remote control, switches the TV on and curls up, her head on my chest, smiling, 'I just really need some background sound'.

All this is so _normal_ that I want to laugh, but end up chuckling and burying my face in her hair, pulling her closer. There's some comedy on TV I've never seen, but when I mention it she looks at me just like she did when I first let that slip of tongue in the plane.

This _normality_ makes me relaxed, and I doze off. I don't know how much time passes, but when I wake up, the comedy's ended and there's a news program, and the night fell outside and Helena's sleeping. I hope that it's not _that_ late and I still have a chance to catch a bus.

But when I try to move, Helena wakes up immediately. 'What happened?' she asks, rubbing her eyes.

'Go to sleep', I answer, kissing her head. 'It's night already and you probably should go to bed or your neck is going to hurt in the morning. I hope to catch a bus to go home'.

I stand up, but Helena catches me by the hand. And apparently she needs only one word to destroy my common sense.

'Stay'.

I think I've heard her wrong, but she notices my expression and repeats, in a louder but not steadier voice, 'Stay'. I try to object, but she stands up, intertwines our fingers and takes several steps to the stairs and I can do nothing, absolutely nothing but follow.

As we leave the living room, we are surrounded by darkness. There is a dim shimmering of streetlights falling through the windows, but eyes still need to adapt. Yet, I manage not to trip over the stairs.

Helena leads me into her room and as soon as I close the door behind me I find myself in an unfamiliar position, my back to the wall, Helena's hands on my chest, her lips on mine, and for a moment I am caught by surprise.

Maybe I should have tried to resist, to say something like "Do you understand what you're doing?", but damn this, damn this all. I can be an egoist just for a change.

I let my hands travel over her shoulders, arms, waist, pull her closer to me, but still allow Helena to take control. I don't resist when her hands go up my chest. When she tries to deepen the kiss, I obey and open my mouth, encouraging her, and kiss her back. But when we part, gasping for breath, I immediately pull her back, the kiss becoming hungrier, faster, and rougher.

Suddenly she breaks the contact and evades me when I reach out to her. Instead, she brushes her lips against my cheekbone, behind my ear and across my jaw. With a surprise I realize that heavy, uneven breaths are my own, and that whatever remains of self-control I had are fading away.

I feel rather than see Helena's hands working the buttons on my shirt open. Her kisses trail down my neck; I angle my head to give her better access and run my hand through her hair, pulling her closer. I'm hot from the contact and cold from the chills running up my spine at the same time and this feels way too good to be real.

By the chilling sensation I understand that she finally managed to open my shirt; one look down at her is enough for me to throw my head back, and one touch of lips on collarbone is enough to draw a moan from me. She hesitates for a second, before going down to my chest. I think that I forget how to breathe, my lungs are burning, and I pray for this to last forever.

When she moves further down, to my stomach, I see white for a second, and decide that it's time for me to take upper hand.

I grab her by the wrist and by waist and change our positions, pinning her to the wall. Our eyes meet for a split second and I see surprise flashing on her face. I smile down on her and shrug the shirt off, glad to get rid of that annoying piece of clothing. Helena's eyes dart down and then return to mine again; even despite the lack of light I see her pupils dilated, which makes her eyes almost black, and cheeks dark with blush.

I draw closer to her, hovering just above her, enjoying the feeling of Helena's uneven breathing. Eventually I give up and claim her lips again. She opens her mouth and tries to answer the kiss, but it's my turn to take control now and her turn to enjoy it, and by her quiet moans I know that she does.

I release her wrist and place my hands on the both sides of her and feel her hands sliding down, grabbing me by waist and pulling closer, until we press into each other. I want to savor every tiny detail about this moment. The unfocused gaze of black eyes and the flutter of her eyelashes. The blush and half-opened mouth. The way she leans into my touch, whispering my name, and how I can't say anything but 'Hush' and kiss her cheek.

I gently kiss her behind the ear and hear a gasp. When I caress her neck with my lips, I feel her hand in my hair. Then there's the sweetest pain I've ever known. I bite down on her neck and hear Helena crying 'Oh, God' and she's digging her nails into my back, leaving deep scratches and I can't contain a groan myself. Then I lick the bitten skin, tenderly, and there are moans of 'Leon' and 'Please' and 'G-god', again and again, like a prayer.

And what's the best about it is that it's all mine and mine alone. I'm the only one who gets to see her like this, unraveled under my touches and writhing under my caress.

But then there's a weak push in my shoulders and desperate 'Stop…' and everything becomes painfully real.

I take a couple of steps back and try to process the situation. Dark room. Helena, who thought she was doomed just several hours ago, and I, who thought I'd never see her again, desperate, frustrated, finally got what we both – I think – longed for. But it should've never been like this, thoughtless and reckless.

'Sorry', we both whisper to each other at the same time. I open my mouth to say something, but Helena just takes my hand again and leads me to the bed.

'I'd say it's an insane amount of trust', I whisper to her, sitting down on the bed. 'But now I think it's you who are insane, because now I wouldn't trust myself'.

Helena sits beside me and says, simply, 'You wouldn't, but I do. Look', and her fingers caress my cheek again and she kisses me. And once again I caress her neck and answer the kiss, carefully, slowly, and then she pulls back, smiling, and says, 'You're staying with me'.

Before I can utter a word, Helena lies down and drags me to her; then throws her hand across my chest and I pull her closer, breathing in her scent, and I know for sure that nightmares won't reach us tonight.


	6. Not an Epilogue Yet: Leon

_I originally intended to name it as 'Should Have Been an Epilogue but I Don't Know When This Evolved Into Full-length Chapter 6', but FF decided that it's too long for a title. So yep, it's still not an epilogue. Epilogue will be next (and once again originally I didn't intend for it to be, but it just... happened)._

* * *

**Chapter 6. Ascent**

_Burn my pain away,  
Sing the song that I long for,  
Find the flame within  
And reveal all I need to know.  
Burn this pain away,  
My soul waits in sweet devotion;  
All emotions swell  
As I cry out for you.  
Stream of Passion, 'Burn My Pain'_

The next morning I am awoken by an annoying buzz. At first, I think I'm dreaming of it, and decide to ignore it, but quite soon I understand that it's real. I still pay no attention to it, hoping that if I ignore it for long enough, it will fade away.

It does, only to reappear with the doubled level of annoyance.

I try to find the source of the buzz – which is probably a mobile phone – with my hand. When I finally manage to, I tap _**Answer**_ button and reply, 'Yeah?'

_Oh, morning glory._ I clear my throat, 'Kennedy's listening'.

Silence. I repeat the answer a couple of times, then decide that probably someone called the wrong number or there are network problems, but when I'm exactly two seconds away from ending the call and returning to sleep, Hunnigan's voice coughs and asks, 'Uhm, Leon, I understand it's not really my business and I'm not really sure if I want to know but why are **you** answering when I was calling **Helena**?..'

Now I am fully awake. And I see that I'm answering Helena's cellphone and I fall back on the pillow with a groan. _Idiot._

'Speaking of it, where the hell are both of you?'

I look at the clock, which says 11.25AM, look at Helena's back near me and sigh, smiling, 'I don't have an answer for any of your questions'.

There are several seconds of silence before Hunnigan sighs and murmurs, 'You both owe me an explanation…'

'I guess so'.

'…tomorrow'.

'I owe you. Really', I reply to her, and before the call is ended I swear I hear an outburst of laughter and I can only imagine the assertive questioning from Hunnigan. I'd better avoid her tomorrow if I want to keep the remains of my sanity intact.

But for now I – we – have another day to ourselves.

I sit up in the bed and look at Helena. She is still sleeping, curled up, her breathing deep and measured, her hair disheveled and one strap of her top slightly slid off her shoulder. 'Wake up', I whisper to her, but she murmurs something in her sleep and ignores me. I kiss her shoulder and feel how she shudders a little before opening her eyes and turning to me.

There is a difference between 'getting up' and 'waking up' and I see that she's not completely awake. Helena arches her back, stretching her arms, and only then her eyes finally focus on me and suddenly she sits up.

'Okay, how much of that was a dream?'

'Depends on what you dreamed of', I say to her, brushing my lips against her neck and she stiffens for a moment before relaxing completely and closing her eyes. 'I have good news. Since we hopelessly overslept, we don't have to go anywhere today'.

'Mm-hm', Helena replies. 'And what is the bad news?'

'I might have or might have not accidentally answered your phone, so brace yourself for a questioning on personal issues from Hunnigan'.

Helena throws her head back, laughing, and jokingly shoves me in the shoulders, throwing me off the bed. I react fast enough, grabbing at her waist, so she ends up landing on top of me.

'You're an idiot, you know?'

'Idiot?' I raise eyebrows at her. This makes her smile again, and she nods, 'Idiot. But I love you anyway'.

Suddenly she turns away, but I see her cheeks going red and I smile to myself.

'Hey', I say to her, propping myself up on elbows, and place my hand on her cheek. The words come easy, naturally, as if there's no other option. 'Love you too'.

Helena turns back to me and it's all I've been waiting for. I catch her in a kiss and pull her to me. The kiss turns into another one, then into a few and then we lose track of time for a while, before I absolutely rationally point out that getting to work is much more convenient from my place.

For the rest of the day I make mental notes to myself, noting every single thing.

We grow familiar with each other. Out of work, Helena is a completely different person. She is laughing, when the bus comes to an abrupt stop and she loses her balance and I catch her. Her face is an expression of excitement when we hear a thunder just after we closed the door. And she adorably shies away when we end up a little bit too close to each other, but a sudden growl in our stomach absolutely kills the moment and we laugh once again.

There are bright days. Like the next day. Helena sleeps through the major part of our way to the work, listening to music through earphones. When we arrive we do our best to behave normally, but everything starts cracking when Hunnigan meets us with a triumphant smile and shows us a video from facility's surveillance cameras. All you can see is my car parking and then us getting out of it a minute later and proceeding to the entrance. But then, upon noticing our unimpressed faces, she zooms in and you can clearly see us sharing a kiss before getting out.

It turns out Hunnigan won a bet against another girl from her department and that girl is sulking for the rest of the day.

On these days it seems like the ascent from hell is much easier than I thought it to be.

But then there are dark days and nights when I am not so certain.

When staying at my place Helena sometimes wakes up in the dead of night. At first she makes up excuses, like needing to drink water, and I don't press her, because I know she's not the one to confess her weaknesses. But when one night she wakes up screaming, I can't fake ignorance anymore.

This time she breaks down.

It all piled up. The guilt for the Tall Oaks attack, the death of her sister, nightmares of darkness, flames and glass. She confesses one more thing, when she manages to calm down a little and to start talking coherently, which takes me by surprise.

It's about that guy we saw with Chris – I don't even know his name. She whispers something of electricity, of drowning and of explosion. I listen to her and then whisper words of encouragements that it's just a nightmare, that everything's okay, that I'm here with her and it's the only reality.

She falls asleep eventually, but I am restless until almost dawn.

This anxiety builds up, eating me inside, until I finally decide to call to BSAA and have a word with Chris. His words knock the air out of my lungs, and Helena purses her lips and turns away.

It was true. That guy, Piers Nivans, died that night the apocalypse descended onto China.

Helena remains silent until the evening.

Sometimes she still stays in her house, insisting that she finds working on reports when I'm nearby 'difficult' because apparently I'm distracting her. I don't mind, but I made her promise that if something happens, she must call me immediately.

That night, it's 2.30AM when the phone rings.

It takes me less than an hour to get to her place, despite the raging thunderstorm. I find Helena in the bathroom, leaning on sink, water running. I freeze at this sight, but she raises her hands and says that she just needed something to concentrate on the reality and the sound of running water seemed like an option.

I lead her back to the bedroom and we sit for a while. She is holding on to me, and all I can do is just to stroke her back, promising that she'll make it through.

I tense when I suddenly feel a soft brush of lips on my neck and hear a quiet 'Please, don't go'. My mind is screaming to me to put some distance between us. I try to reason with Helena, I do, I really do, but she whispers 'I'm still sane' and grabs my wrists and guides my hands ho her waist. I'm losing the control over the situation fast, and I try to resist one last time before giving up, and the next second Helena's lips are on mine and my brain shuts down for a while.

The night is full of heated whispers and confessions of love and lust. We are a mess of arms and legs, sharing one breath for both of us. I don't really remember how I end up on top of her and how we rid of our clothes. At first she tries to cover herself, crossing her arms, shivers when I whisper 'Don't' and relaxes, giving herself to me. I'm hungry for it, for her, I realize, but she is insatiable.

And I love it.

This night is the brightest. It's all moans, gasps, curled fingers and swallowed screams, sometimes of pain but more often those of pleasure, ecstasy, and rapture. The world is reduced to this room, to us, calling out each other's name, and the storm outside is still raging, furious and jealous. But this night is ours and nobody else's.

In the morning I wake up from the sound of the door closing and running water. Several minutes later Helena exits the bathroom, wrapped in towel, and searches for something in the drawer. I still pretend being asleep, watching her, and it works quite fine for a while until she suddenly turns around, crosses her arms and grins, looking at me, 'Enjoying the view? It's kind of creepy, you know'.

'You caught me', I smile and my words are met with laughter and a towel, thrown precisely in my face.

On one of those dark nights I remember I sworn to help Helena, no matter what it would took. For me, this ascent is long but steady. And for once I'm sure that for her it won't be so difficult after all.


	7. Epilogue: Ada and Acknowledgements

_It's finally here, the unintended conclusion! The italicized parts were originally meant to be crossed out - but FF doesn't support the strikethrough formatting, which makes me sad to no end. _

_Epilogue title is taken from Cassandra Clare's 'Clockwork Princess'._

* * *

**Epilogue. Let Darkness.**

_As long as you are getting older  
Always look over your shoulder twice.  
_'_Milk and Honey', Delain_

I don't know when this became a strange habit of mine, to check up on him every now and then, every month or two or maybe three but not less than twice a year. But knowing that he is safe and sound was kind of… convenient, I guess.

It would be such a shame, after all, such a waste of talent if something happened to him. I don't even mention that my life – and my work – would become much more difficult. I don't want to admit it, but I think I'd miss him as well. He is so fun to watch, confused, a little bit naïve, and I find myself wondering how he even made it so far.

I guess I'd miss him.

I'm standing in front of this apartment building for the third time over past two weeks. The last two times I checked, no one was home. Can it be another assignment already, that soon? Or can it be that the evidence wasn't enough? I'd bet on the former option, though.

The hookshot successfully grabs at the balcony and I take off into the air. Several moments of weightlessness - and I land on already familiar balcony. I don't know if there is someone inside, so I'd better be careful.

It's the dead of night and the lights are out. Somewhere in the downtown the city is overflowing with light and colour, but closer to the rooftops it's dark, and it's my comfortable surroundings.

I peek into the window and see what I probably expected to see the least. There is someone in the bed, sleeping, but I can tell it's not Leon. I look closer and see that there's a woman – a girl – and looking a little bit closer I realize it's the girl I saw in China. There is someone's arm – _someone's, come on –_ around her and I like the scene less and less with every passing second.

_Why am I even here?_

I am ready to go away, but then I hear a scream and duck, praying that she – that they don't see me. They don't, obviously. It's not like they'd expect someone to appear on the balcony out of nowhere. Even if this someone is me.

I take a look into the window again – just one look and then I'm away, I'm persuading myself. And then suddenly I'm paralyzed and I feel a strange sting and I don't like it at all. The girl is shaking, and Leon is holding her close to himself and her arms find their way around him and she buries her face in his neck, and all of a sudden I hate how familiar they are with each other.

_Get away from here._

When it's safe again, I go up to the rooftop and sit down. Now that I think of it, maybe I expected something like this; I should have, at least. I know the way you fall in love, Leon, slowly at first, never really trusting yourself, and then you dive headfirst. And I know the way you love, generously, burning yourself from the inside, giving everything you have. I've seen it myself. I have no doubts that you'll protect this girl – _what's her name, once again? _– and you'll gladly give your life up if it saves her.

But I know – _I'm almost sure, I think, I hope that maybe, just maybe__ – _you'd still do the same for me. Because I just happen to be that only memory you love to hate.

* * *

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS (because I can).  
**

So here goes a short, or not so short, or maybe it could be longer, if I had a better memory, list of people to whom my gratitude knows no limits.

First, to TechnoGecko1826, who saw my cry of 'Holy crap, I want to write' and gave me a good moral kick in the ass to get me going, otherwise unwritten words would haunt me forever. I know things were kind of tough for you recently, but I hope everything will be okay in a blink of an eye!

Second, to Warbird571, who for some still unknown reason took her time to read this despite not being much of a RE fan. Also, I'm happy I made such a nice friend!

Third, to miroia, for her mixed English-Russian reviews. It was fun!

Overall, of course, to everyone who commented and bookmarked the story. Thanks a lot! You're still more than welcome to leave a review - even a couple of words - and don't hesitate to write if you saw a mistake, a typo or whatever.

Thank you and see you! *curtain falls*


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